Phoenix

T w o

"This year life may not go exactly as planned. But that's okay; I love surprises."
~Charles F. Glassman
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"What do you mean we're moving and where exactly to?" I ask

"I got an offer at the Washington office." My dad says calmly.

"OK, when do I start packing" I questioned just as calmly. They look taken back my answer.

"That's it, just ok nothing else." My dad says in shock. I just roll my eyes and head up stairs and start packing. My dad texts me telling me we where leaving tomorrow.
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I never really liked airports. Matter-a-fact, I hate them. There is way too many people -especially at LAX- there is untamed babies, loud obnoxious laughers, don't even get me started on security.

Thankfully my parents new that I wasn't LAX's #1 fan. So they got a private jet to take us. It's not big but it's not very small either. It fit a three member family comfortably. It even has a bedroom at the back with a full bathroom.

The pilot soon announced that we are about to take off and advises us to buckle up. Once I sat down something in my stomach started rumble and turn making me feel nauseous. I have a bad feeling about this trip. Something bad is going to happen I could just feel it. I feel it in my bones even in the tips of my fingers, I feel it. And I'm worried not scared but worried.

It's been an hour and half into and the feeling went away, not completely, but I'm not as worried anymore. We're almost there's only 30 more minutes left. It's ok we're going be fine Why'd you do that brain. Scare me like that I damn near had a heart attack. Maybe it was just overdosing on dopamine. My thoughts are interrupted by the frantic voice of the pilot and the heavy turbulence of the plane.

"Please fasten your seatbelts, and stay calm we seem to be experiencing some turbulence." Now how the hell am I supposed to be staying calm when the very person with our lives in his hand is freaking the fuck out.

The plane is descending quickly. The sound of alarms and screaming flight attendants clouds my thoughts. The desperate yells of my parents to stay in my seat scratches my ears. The plane is falling. And I don't think it was going to stop.

The next thing I know I was waking up hanging from a tree. I was still strapped to my seat. Below me is the plane shattered in to thousands of pieces.

My parents. Oh my god my parents. Their bodies were ripped apart. My dads head was caved in, his arm completely missing in the debris and his legs were facing the wrong way. Oh my. My mother. Her body was split in half chunks of metal sticking out of her body.

Oh no. No. No. No. No. No this is can't be happening. No god please no. Lord please tell me this is a dream. I sob and weep and cry out. Having noticed the pain I was in, I realized that body was just as beat up. Pieces of skin was missing off of my body. And....and I can't feel my legs. I can't move them. I can't even wiggle my toes.

I should've said something. This is all my fault. I could've done something. So stupid. I'm so fucking stupid. None of this would've happen if I just said something.

Happy birthday to me.

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"Death and love are the two wings that bear the good man to heaven."
                                        ~ Michelangelo